


Operation: Noodle Canoodle

by amongthieves



Category: World of Warcraft
Genre: Canon Compliant, Edwin is a big Baby, Emotional Sex, Established Relationship, Fluff and Angst, Late Night Coffee, M/M, The Defias Doesn't Exist - Yet, The Pasta Is... Maybe Good Maybe Bad, what is characterization
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-06
Updated: 2021-01-06
Packaged: 2021-03-16 10:41:37
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,668
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28580685
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/amongthieves/pseuds/amongthieves
Summary: There's change in the air in Stormwind, but all Edwin Van Cleef wants to do is to cook his assassin boyfriend a nice pasta dinner.
Relationships: Mathias Shaw/Edwin VanCleef
Comments: 1
Kudos: 8





	Operation: Noodle Canoodle

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Zaidana](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Zaidana/gifts).



> Happy Los Reyes Magos, my love!!! Sisi, who is perhaps the most beautiful and gifted and kind individual in the world gifted me a wonderful portrait of Genn Greymane for Christmas while I worked on this fic for her Spanish holiday. I hope you enjoy it and I pray that I didn't butcher the characterization that you've fine tuned over the years ;-;

It was Edwin's idea, and he's late to the damn thing. 

The sun sinks behind Stormwind and as if tasting the recent atmosphere between the Stonemasons Guild and the nobles of Stormwind, it paints the city blood red. Edwin finds it somewhat funny, but then for the love of all things, can't remember why he finds it so funny. When's the last time he slept for more than four hours?

It's hard to remember things these days. But he remembered the most important thing on his calendar this week - dinner with Mathias. He got the bottle of red that he knows that Mathias likes to drink, and considering he was fresh out of coffee beans, he picked those up too. He's hoping that Mathias will want to stick around, drink coffee late into the night. With the murmurings that surround him, and he swallows down the thought, he's not sure how much longer-

No.

No thinking like that. It won't come to that. It won't.

Edwin races down the streets, avoiding the end of day crowd as they finish their jobs and return to their families. The street smells heavily of freshly baked bread, of candles burning on windowsills, of long simmered roast. It's good. Stormwind is home.

When he arrives at his door, Mathias has already beaten him to it. He's leaning against the frame, wearing tight black pants, and a blue shirt that's done up, and a black jacket to cover his slim frame. Edwin bites his lip.

"I'm sorry, I'm late."

"Mhm." Mathias moves out of the way, lets Edwin sink his key into the door, and push it open with his shoulder. Mathias follows after him with a quiet grace, immediately in his personal space, as he always is. For as long as Edwin can remember, he's always been like this. He doesn't mind a bit.

"Is that the Shiraz I like?" Mathias could read a sign post from half a continent away if he needed to.

They head up the stairs, forgetting about the first level of the house. All the fun happens upstairs - both cooking and sex. It's a lovely little place that he built with his own hands. Bedroom on one side, kitchen on the other, balcony in between. It's all he and Mathias needs. The bathroom downstairs perhaps wasn't the smartest idea, but it is what it is.

"Perhaps." Edwin can't help the grin that spreads across his face as he puts the bottle on the neatly cleaned dinner table. He moves over to the kitchen counter, pulling open drawers as he holds the bag of coffee beans in his free hand.

"Are we celebrating something?" Edwin turns around and Mathias watches as he looks, as he sets down the bag of his beans, the scent so strong that it's fragrant in the air. Coffee. Mathias is like a bloodhound for the stuff. 

"No? I just wanted to get you something nice."

"I don't need someone to get me something nice."

"I know that, Matt. I wanted to drink with you, and last time you let me drink that piss poor ale that Amber suggested... Ugh. And now we drink the stuff you like. With dinner. I made pasta. From scratch."

Mathias raises his eyebrow, but then his eyes travel to the counter when he notices a gently folded set of thick noodles, white and powdered with flour. Off to the side, there's another pile of something underneath a set of cloth, but Edwin remembers that it's for later. He thinks.

"Do you know what to pair with Shiraz?"  
Edwin squints at him. "Yes."

"Well, I'm looking forward to it then."

He finally locates the corkscrew before tossing it to Mathias, who catches it with an easy grip. The last time Edwin tried to open a bottle, he shredded the cork and said it added extra flavour. Mathias said the wine had been ruined, but Edwin refused to throw out of a perfectly fine red.

Edwin grabs the noodles and sets them on the kitchen counter surface before grabbing a pot, filling it with water, and adding some salt. There's the pop of the cork being removed, and Edwin smiles as he starts the cooking fire, setting the pot over top of it. 

Had it been just a bit colder, Edwin might have started the fireplace earlier. Then again, it was nice to find excuses for Mathias to snuggle up to him, and Mathias often did so when the skies darkened and temperature dropped.

"So you made these?" Mathias walks over to the counter, eyeing the noodles. Edwin nods, feeling hot under the collar. "They look incredibly fine. Almost artisanal."

"Well, you know. Homemade things tend to have that look to them. I paid close attention to the lengths of each noodle, knowing it would be under a spy's scrutiny. They all have to be even, and they all had to be the finest noodles of Stormwind. Almost fine enough for that dog of a king to dine for."

It was enough of a comment to have Mathias sigh, pull out two wine glasses, and fill them a third of a way. He slides one over to Edwin, who picks it up and kisses Mathias' cheek.

"Thank you, Matt." 

"Mhm."

And Edwin rests his chin on Mathias' shoulder, looking at the profile on his face. Older now, a bit less scruffy than when they were teens. He's been playing with his facial hair, trying to figure out a style that he likes, and it's fun to watch him grow it out and style it differently every time. Edwin likes the handlebar with a bit of scruff on his chin, but Mathias says it makes him look like a fool. 

Edwin remembers the consequences of saying, 'well, you always look like a fool so it suits you'. He was still sore the next day, and the rope burn on his thighs hadn't helped.

"This isn't an art gallery, Van Cleef. I'm not for staring at."

"But you're such a fine delight to admire. Better than chiseled marble, really. Though, don't let the guild hear me say that." Edwin bats his lashes before he pulls away, laughing and smiling, before he fetches the tomatoes and herbs that he had purchased earlier in the day. He sets about making the sauce, trying to recall the recipe he had foolishly forgotten to write down. Onions, tomatoes, garlic, herbs-

Which herbs again? He looks at the collection he's bought, fingers through each of them and their unique scents, and shrugs before deciding: all of them. Once the tomatoes have been skinned, diced, and seeds discarded, he throws them into his second pot which is then set on the fire, adds a generous sprinkling of herbs, and then his vegetables. The scent of the herbs begin to fill the room, and he can see Mathias' eyebrow quirked.

"Your water's boiling."

"I know."

"Just mentioning." Mathias walks past, finds himself at the dinner table, and settles into the chair, spreading his legs. Edwin struggles to take his eyes off him, biting his lower lip, already wanting to forget about the damn pasta. 

"You invited me here for dinner, or did you forget?" Mathias takes another sip of the wine, and his mouth twitches in a smile. Edwin feels himself flush before he turns around, grabbing the fresh pasta, and plunking it into the boiling water. He throws the lid on with a huff, and stands at the edge of the fire. 

Mathias takes his jacket off, slinging it over the back of his wooden chair, and begins to undo the tie at the top of his shirt. Edwin swallows thickly, longing to be those fingers. 

When Edwin goes to open his mouth, Mathias glances to the window, letting his hand fall away. Edwin had forgotten to pull the burtains down, so all of Stormwind and her lights lay before them. 

"I can sense the tension in the city, Edwin. Are things okay in the guild?"

"I don't know why you ask. You know."

"I would prefer to hear it from you." Mathias leans forward, resting his elbows on his knees. It's his stance that he starts when he begins to interrogate. Edwin immediately feels his spine stiffen. 

"Things are fine." They are not.

"When's the last time the guild had a meeting?"

"Last week? Maybe two weeks ago? Hard to keep track of." Two days ago. The nobles aren't answering them about payment. No one is answering them. Edwin's ready to put on his finest and march into the Keep himself if this keeps up.

"You're the Guildmaster. You should be a bit more on top of this."

"Yeah, well, you've been here quite often. You're keeping me a bit preoccupied." Edwin snaps, knowing it's not what he wants to snap about, but the words tumble out and he's furious that he can't see the sting of the words in Mathias' eyes. He's stoic, unbothered.

"This is true." Mathias inhales and takes another sip of wine, this one longer than the last. His exhale is heavy. "I apologize."

"Don't- you know I don't mean that. I love it when you're here." Edwin sets the spoon down on top of the pot and scurries over to Mathias, kneeling down, and for a moment, he sees pure and utter shock on Mathias' face, and he realizes what this could be and he wishes it could be. But instead, without a ring, he takes Mathias' free hand on his, and kisses his knuckles, giving his palm a slight squeeze. "And I love you, Matt. Don't you go anywhere."

"Wasn't planning on it." Mathias sets his wine glass on the table and reaches down to stroke Edwin's face for a brief moment before his hand catches Edwin's chin between his fingers. He tilts his head back and Edwin follows, parting his lips, desperate for anything Mathias will give him, and Mathias leans in close, their lips brushing against each other.

"Don't overcook the noodles."

Edwin pushes away and scrambles back to the pot, a flustered mess as he notices that a few have begun to stick together. In a mild panic, he tries to separate them, his face heating up. When he finally has it under control and most of the noodles have come apart, he switches to the sauce, giving it a good stir before turning around, noticing immediately the thick bulge in Mathias' pants.

"Mathias-"  
"We eat first." Mathias picks up his wine glass again, sipping as though nothing's changed. Edwin screams internally.

"I can eat something else other than-"

"No."

"Can you be my dessert then?"

"Perhaps."

Mathias smiles and leans back, and Edwin allows him to watch as he stirs the simmering tomatoes. Halfway through, an idea pops into his head and he laughs out loud, earning a confused head tilt from Mathias. 

With maniacal, pleased laughter, Edwin rushes into the bedroom, closes the door, and strips off his clothes. He moves to his closet, quickly rummaging through the clusterfuck of a mess for one of his clean aprons. It's not quite a cooking apron, it's black and has many more pockets than needed for a cook, but it's good enough. He quickly ties it on, pushes his fingers through his hair, and opens the door to return to his cooking station.

The look on Mathias' face is priceless.

Edwin moves to the counter to grab the parmesan cheese he had purchased from a local farm outside the walls, and sets it aside with a grater. He tries not to notice Mathias' eyes moving around the room with him, hungry and ravenous, and he turns his back to Mathias, his toned ass on full display.

Mathias whistles, and Edwin snorts.

"Do you think the guild would be upset if I showed up to work like this?" Edwin reaches for his glass on the counter and finally takes a sip. It bites back at him, and he flinches. No wonder it's Mathias' favourite. 

"Maybe. I wouldn't be. The nobles might be a bit upset. Such indignity on display."

"Ah, fuck the nobles. That don't know what's good. They'll get what's coming to them one day." It's almost a sing song, the way he says it, and he doesn't even hear Mathias get up until one hand is on his ass, the other on the side of his neck, thumb pushing into the base of his skull. 

"Don't be an idiot."

"Then I wouldn't be me. Are you asking me to change now? Because I think it's a bit late." Edwin laughs and Mathias increases the pressure, moving the other hand on Edwin's ass to his hip, finding the bone, and squeezing down. Edwin groans, leaning back into his touch, and Mathias presses a kiss to his shoulder.

"No. But I am asking how much longer dinner is going to be."

"Soon, my love, soon. Maybe sooner, if you blow me." 

"I'm afraid if I did that we'd be out of luck for dinner tonight. Be patient."

Mathias pulls his hands away and Edwin shivers involuntarily, eager for his touch back. But there's truth in his words, as dinner comes close to being done. He scoops out a slippery noodle, biting into it, feeling that al dente that was described to him at the store, and grabs the pot from the fire. Eagerly, he carries it over to the new strainer he had also purchased, pouring the pasta water down the sink. A few hot wet drops speckle onto his skin and he flinches, trying to avoid any potential disasters.

Once the water's gone, he sets the pot on the counter and quickly grabs the sauce, bubbling and simmering, and he eagerly pours it into the pot, mixing the two together. He takes a few herbs, smells each, and decides to add fresh leaves of the ones that smell good before throwing on grated cheese. After several minutes, with steam coming off the plate, Edwin walks over and sets the pasta down in front of Mathias, laying out the cutlery for him. He pulls his chair closer, sitting at his side, eager to hear Mathias' feedback.

He waits, watching as Mathias lifts a forkful to his mouth, and chews, a bit of red sauce smearing to the corner of his mouth. Edwin smiles.

"Well? How is it?" Edwin leans on his open palm, the windows fogged from the cooking. He feels alone in this city, with just Mathias at his side. Nothing else in this moment matters. 

"It's... " Mathias chews and swallows, and then takes a sip of red wine. "It's good?" Mathias makes a face for a moment and Edwin purses his lips together. "I'm surprised though - I thought you were going to add some sort of meat to it."

Edwin looks at him, and then over his shoulder at the covered pile on the corner of the kitchen counter. Uncooked, unprepared chicken meat he had gotten ready before heading out to grab the wine. Fuck. He groans, rubbing his face with his hands. "Why didn't you say anything?"

"I figured you knew what you were doing."

"I-... Oh Light, Matt. I tried. I tried so hard." He begins to laugh. "I tried to make the homemade pasta but it wouldn't knead and it took so damn long, and it was always sticky, sticking to the counter and to my hands, so I went and bought some-"

"I knew it."

"Shut up. It wasn't too expensive. But it's good, right?" Edwin quickly takes a bite, thankful that at least the pasta came out much better than what he had been concocting. "And then I bought so many herbs- I didn't know what to use. They all smelled good so..."

"I mean, usually that's fine but... It's a bit much. Is there stranglekelp in this?" Mathias smiles, and it's slightly meek, and Edwin can see that the smile is reassuring. "But it's good. I'll take some left overs and have it tomorrow too. It'll be good on the road."

"Cold?"

"Yeah. It'll be fine. Least I don't have to worry about the meat spoiling." Mathias snickers, and Edwin howls, tossing his head back. 

"You wound me!" 

"Eat up. The wine is good. Though, Shiraz goes better with seafood, not fowl."

"I asked!"

"And clearly they had no idea what they were talking about."

"I mean, it was a random woman on the street."

"Why didn't you ask the wine seller?"

"He seemed... irate."

"Why?"

"Well. They may have been closing, and I may have shoved my foot in the door. I literally refused to leave until he sold to me." Edwin smiles apologetically. 

"You're a mess."

"I know."

"I love you."

"And once again, I know." 

Mathias puts down his fork and grabs the back of Edwin's head, pulling him for a kiss. He tastes of over seasoned pasta, of fresh tomatoes, of the biting wine-

Edwin loves it.

"I thought you wanted to eat first."

"That was before I tasted the food." 

Edwin gasps and Mathias shuts him up with another kiss, and Edwin begins to protest, but Mathias turns to face his body towards Edwin, his hands on his thighs, and Edwin begins to melt.

"I slaved over this meal for you and you dare turn it away?"

"It's going to be a late night, it'll still be here when I'm done with you."

"Oh. Okay." And Edwin stops feigning the fight, and Mathias knows exactly when he's won. Edwin gets up and Mathias follows, his hands reaching out to grab Edwin's waist, tugging on the apron. "I got coffee."

"I saw."

"Would you like some?"

"Later."

If there's anything that Edwin's been guilty of, it's been giving into Mathias, giving him what he wants. It's not often that Mathias pushes him for his needs, and Edwin is more than compliant to bend to his will, to his need, to his wants, and Edwin wants to carve out a spot for him moving forward.

But he worries. Mathias is as much Stormwind as the Stormwind is the nobles. What's to happen when things get bad?

Edwin pushes the thought out of his head as Mathias pulls the apron off him, his body on full display against the door of the bedroom. Mathias takes a step back, drinking him in, cheeks red from the wine, and crashes their bodies together against the door. Edwin whines, desperate for any touch that Mathias can give him, his fingers cling and grasp, tugging at Mathias' shirt, and Mathias yanks at the door handle, trying to maneuver him into the bedroom.

"Matt."

Mathias ignores him, and Edwin feels a bubbling sensation rising in his chest. He can't put a name on it, can't make sense of it, but as he falls back against the mattress, sheets made for Mathias' company, the sensation of fear makes itself known.

Mathias leans down, kissing Edwin's knees before dragging his tongue up over the ridge of his hips, and Edwin can feel the sweat rolling off him. The heat of the kitchen combined with the sudden influx of his mental state - he almost wants to tell Mathias to stop, to tell him about the most recent meeting, but then Mathias takes him into his mouth and he drops his head back, his throat full of nothing but gratuitous moans. Mathias does this thing with his tongue that Edwin's tried to do himself, but can't quite copy, and it's absolutely mind bobbling. Edwin moans, grabbing a fistful of sheets, as Mathias swallows more of him down the back of his throat.

"Light- are you going to eat me? I'm telling you-"

"Shut up, Ed." Mathias pulls his body up, hovering over Edwin, before he kisses him again, all tongue and eagerness, and Edwin finally shuts up, arcing his body up to press into Mathias. He groans as Mathias reaches up, clutching his jaw in his hands, their foreheads pressing together tightly. Mathias finally lowers his body into Edwin's, and Edwin ruts against clothed skin much to his frustration.

"Shutting up." Edwin manages to breathe out, earning a low chuckle from Mathias. "But maybe-"

"Stop." Mathias pulls away and Edwin is immediately at his shirt, lifting it up over his head. Mathias lets out a breath as Edwin's lips brush against his chest, catching a nipple between his teeth. Mathias pushes him back and Edwin falls back with a smirk.

"Make me."

Mathias pulls himself up off the bed, and for a moment Edwin thinks he's going to walk away - please, no, stay, it almost comes out a cry - but he undoes his breeches and drops them to the floor before climbing back into bed, beautiful and naked, and eager to slide their bodies together. 

It's been years of this, of moving past the awkward touches to the hardened grips, to the needy kisses in the middle of the night, of navigating each other's bodies while upholding the responsibilities of their respective roles in this fucked up world but Edwin thinks they've done a good job so far. He doesn't want it to stop. 

Edwin tilts his head back and Mathias is there in seconds, licking at his neck before biting at the saliva slicked skin, and Edwin groans, lifting his hips to rub their cocks together. The skin on skin friction is much more delicious than his pathetic excuse for pasta sauce.

"Sorry."

"For what?" Mathias growls, his bites turning into rough kisses, sucking at the skin hard enough to leave a mark. Succulent marks, Edwin loves them. 

"The shitty pasta."

"You're fine, Ed."

"But it was really bad."

"Mhm." Mathias reaches down, grabbing both of their dicks, rubbing them together, and Edwin bucks his hips into the motion. He feels light headed.

"Besides, you always cook and I wanted to do something nice for you-"

"Edwin Van Cleef."

It's not often he calls him by his full name in bed, so it pulls his full attention like a dog on a short leash. 

"Your cooking is fine, but it is the last thing on my mind right now. I want you."

"Okay." And that's that - there's no long drawn out arguments with Mathias, no sugar sweet words. It's this or that, and if it's neither, well, then the conversation isn't worth having. Edwin resigns, and thinks about the chicken on the counter. Mathias pulls his hand back, licks his palm, and strokes Edwin again, earning a shiver through his whole body.  
"We'll clean up later. Focus. Eyes on me."

And Edwin does as he's told, finding Mathias' face in the dark. It's every bit as gorgeous as he commits to memory. He can still see the green in his eyes, and the freckles that the Light sprinkled across his cheeks, the bridge of his nose. It makes Edwin's stomach flip. Why doesn't he have a portrait of him? A little memento, locked away in a locket, just for him. Edwin realizes that's what he wants - he wants to lock away Mathias, keep him all to himself.

"Fuck me."

"We'll get there."

"No. Now. I want you now. Please."

His throat feels thick, and that bubble in his chest won't go away. When Mathias comes near him, kisses his brow, kisses his cheek, his jaw, his neck, his ear, it still doesn't go away. 

Mathias leans over to the bedside drawer, gets the oil, and for once, does exactly as Edwin asks. It doesn't take long before Edwin gasps, feeling Mathias push into him, and he lifts his chest, turning his face into the sheets. Mathias' hands grip the underside of his thighs, pushing his legs up, and Edwin feels like a virginal bride on his wedding night.

He wanted rough, unforgiving, but Mathias is being tender with him. So delicate.

"Look at me."

"Matt-"

"Look at me."

Mathias reaches out and grabs his chin again, stops his thrusts, and Edwin squirms. His eyes lock onto Mathias', and the pressure builds. Slowly, it's as though brick by brick is being piled on top of him. 

"I love you." Edwin whispers, and Mathias snaps his hips, earning a throaty moan from Edwin.

"I love you too, Ed." Mathias buries his face in Edwin's neck, lifts his thighs, and rolls his hips into him, finding a rhythm that has Edwin's back aching, but his cock is already needy for release. It doesn't take much for him, especially with Mathias. Like a good assassin, he finds the pressure points easily, pushes on them until Edwin feels ready to pass out. 

On occasion, when they were younger, he had passed out. Maybe one, maybe twice.

But here, with the dizzying sense of a tender asphyxiation, Edwin gasps as Mathias fucks him harder, his hands moving to Edwin's throat, to his hair, pulling and tugging, gripping tightly as if for dear life. Mathias swoops down, capturing his mouth with a wet kiss, sloppy and almost uncoordinated+ as Edwin feels his jerky thrusts, 

On the brink, Edwin feels his orgasm ripped from him. With a sharp cry, a wave of pleasure nearly drags him out of consciousness, and he doesn't realize how hard he's digging his fingers into Mathias' arm until Mathias whispers a small, 'ow', and Edwin's fingers are briefly sore as he lets go. 

"Are you okay?" Mathias murmurs, carding his fingers through Edwin's hair. Edwin, almost choking, manages to calm himself until he can find the breath to speak with.

"It's good. I'm just sad that I can never become a spy."

"Oh? And why's that?"

"Because operation noodle canoodle failed."

Mathias is silent for a moment, the words rolling around in his head. "But-..."

"Say it."

"... No."

"The mission was to have excellent pasta and excellent sex. We only succeeded on one of these. So, that's a mission failure." Mathias gets up to get a cloth to wipe himself down before tossing it to Edwin, and Edwin doesn't want to clean up. He wants to keep Mathias with him, on him, all the time.

"Well, I will cook dinner next time."

"Promise?"

"Yes. And I'll make the pasta myself, so you don't have to suffer through sticky dough once again. Did you flour the counter?"

"... We shall never speak of this again."

"Speak of what?" Mathias murmurs, trailing kisses along Edwin's stomach, his hands always surprisingly soft for his line of work.

"The pasta-"

"Ed. I know."

"Oh. I get it." Edwin winks at him and Mathias rolls his eyes before he gets up, motioning for Edwin to follow. 

"Come on. We have a kitchen to clean and coffee to make."

-

Edwin wakes, a chill in the air. He blinks, the room a slight blur before it comes into focus, his eyes settling in the dark. When he looks at the window, he squints, confusion hitting him. Quietly, he slides off the mattress, Mathias' arm falling off him, and he stands at the window.

"No way."

As he stares at the sight of snow falling down on the white brick of Stormwind, he jumps when he feels Mathias' breath on his shoulder.

"Snow? In late spring?"

"Apparently." Edwin looks to the sky, trying to find the source of magic, or anything that might be causing such an oddity. Mathias wraps his arms around Edwin's shoulders, leaning against him, the heat of his naked body a welcoming sensation in the cold. They watch the flurries come down, spiraling in the wind, landing upon blue tiled roofs and burying the city's colour.

"Strange."

"Very strange."

"Come back to bed. I'm sure it'll be gone come morning." Mathias presses another kiss to Edwin's shoulder, trailing a series of affection to his spine, attending to each vertebrae with a brief visit from his lips. 

Edwin turns from the window, from the snow, from Stormwind, and climbs back under the covers with Mathias. As Mathias falls back asleep, Edwin curses himself. Wishes this could be all he ever needed. It could have been perfect

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for being in my life. Every time we talk I'm just 'aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa' x1000000. I hope this is to your standards for these two wonderful boys. I kind of get why you like them together a lot now - they were incredibly fun to write. Edwin is such a brat.


End file.
